Consonance
by Wonder Squint
Summary: There are a dozen reasons why he shouldn't be there, but there's one very good reason why he is. Contains currently off-canon established relationship, sexy times and spoilers for 2.07 "Sacrifice".


I've been avoiding writing smut for these two considering the fact that I enjoy the angle the writers are taking with their relationship, but then I thought, why not? It's not entirely off-canon but here is a glimpse into what could be should Mike seek a certain solace with Max while she is his sort-of girlfriend, and some completely original events to follow. Please read, review and enjoy.

Disclaimer: I own nothing but my own words.

* * *

**CONSONANCE**

* * *

_Consonance: A musical term meaning a simultaneous sounding of tones that produce a feeling of rest. A feeling that there is no further need for resolution; Harmony._

* * *

There are a dozen reasons why he shouldn't be here, but there's one very good reason why he is. And he waits in the pouring rain for that very reason to open her door to him.

Mike shows up at her door late one night in the midst of a thunderstorm. Max's first thought upon hearing that he'd walked out of the Bureau certainly wasn't that it meant he was coming to find her. Yet somehow, she was expecting him anyway. So when she opens the door to her New York City townhouse to find him standing there shivering and dripping wet, it's not really a surprise.

"Hello, love." he says, shaking his terribly soaked head of hair, scattering tiny droplets of water everywhere. Then he notices the concerned expression on her face and stops her before she had a chance to speak. "I don't want to talk about It." he implores, his voice soft but rigid.

Max considers it for a moment but then decides against it, nodding silently, beckoning him inside. She can wait. Albeit, not very long. Just long enough to allow him to warm up before she tears him into pieces for sending her out of her mind once again. He'd scoff at the thought and retort to her complaint. "Like you don't drive me crazy on a weekly basis, Miss I'm-nothing-like-my-uncle-Hardy." And in reply, she'd gasp dramatically then rant with scalding remarks that would not only call his manhood's veracity into question, but seriously threaten it as well. The last time Mike had been on the receiving end of such an attack, it was an understatement to state that he understood the message she was trying to impart crystalline clear.

She manages to hold her tongue for the length of time it takes him to shrug off his jacket and shoes. He takes a quick look around the quaint yet humble home of his ex-girlfriend and realizes how he has missed being there since their separation, "Did you reorganize the furniture?" he asks, turning back to her.

"Where have you been?" Max ignores Mike's question in favour of one of her own. Her ability to wait for an answer had always been very poor, so Ryan would say, but she was furious, unfitting for a lady her aunt Jenny would add. Everyone had been worried sick since he had done a Houdini not three days ago, and now he strolls by like nothing happened, complimenting the décor as if he actually gives a damn.

Mike offers her a dark look and repeats himself, "I don't want to talk about it."

He can tell she's neither impressed, nor submitting as she folds her arms across her chest and glares at him with those striking eyes of hers. Mike's ability to charm her past the point of anger had always unnerved her slightly, so she knows, if she's going to get an answer, she has to remain enraged. "That's too bad, because we're going to. Where were you?"

Eventually, Mike sighs and starts to head for the nearest exit, but Max swiftly slides across to block him from leaving. His exasperation with her is clear, but now she has the advantage because she'd always been able to overlook his irritation with her, and now is certainly no exception.

"Max," he says warningly, "I'm not getting into this now."

He closes his eyes and brings his hands up to his face to rub at them, and it's then Max suddenly realises just how exhausted he is. She feels terrible not to have noticed before, and it's even worse than the reason she didn't detect it was because she had grown accustomed to seeing the dark circles beneath his eyes. She wonders if he's had a proper night's sleep since she was kidnapped and his father was murdered all in the very same day, and despite the very real strength in her anger, she feels a pang of sympathy for him and decides to relent a little.

"All right. But if not now, then when?" Max inquires.

Regardless of her concerted effort to sound like she's not backing down, he has sensed the change in her mood, and turns to silently declare a spot on her loveseat as his own, slumping himself down on it and runs a hand through his tanged mop of hair. "I don't know," he answers softly, and she can tell from the way he looks at her that it's an honest reply. To reward him for it, she grabs him a towel and throws it at his head: a gesture that is more affectionate that it seems.

"Do you want to know why I left the Bureau, Max?" Mike asks her later on that evening. Max is trying to refill their glasses with the whiskey she had chosen. "Why?" She has to concentrate unusually hard because the glasses seem to be moving on the coffee-table, which also appeared to be spinning. This is usually the sign they should stop drinking, but they have decided to ignore it for the time being. They have both realised the past couple of hours that denial is a good thing and they intend to embrace it fully.

"Because I figured it wouldn't matter much. I know I'm going to get fired the moment I kill Lily Gray." Mike shrugs in an infuriatingly cavalier manner.

Max dropped the bottle and stared at him, not noticing that most of the scotch has leaked onto the floor. "What?"

Mike rescues the alcohol himself when it becomes clear that Max has no intention of doing so herself. He refused to meet her gaze. "When I find her, I'm going to kill her." he speaks calmly, taking a swig of the whiskey straight from the bottle. "The odds of me returning as an agent aren't exactly in my favour, are they?"

"Don't say that." her response is automatic and all she is able to manage in her drunken stupor.

"Why not if it's the truth?" he asks, reaching over to grab Max's wrists, pulling her closer to him, wanting her to see every emotion he was feeling.

Max edged closer to him, her face mere inches from his own, "You have a choice." The sincerity of her words is reflected clearly in her eyes. They'd have to be to convince him.

He shakes his head, "She hired a serial killer to kill you and had her son kill my father. What sort of choice do you think I have here, Max?" He genuinely hoped she'd have an answer to that one.

Max tries – quite feebly - to pull away. "You're drunk," she insists, "You don't know what you're saying."

Mike chuckles bitterly, "I know exactly what I'm saying. As much as I prayed that I would simply settle for catching and detaining Lily and her hoard, I'm still angry. After what she did to you, to my dad… how could I ever let her live?"

She could feel tears threatening but she didn't want to cry, she just wanted him to stop. His grip on her wrists was starting to tighten to the point of pain, but his words were hurting her far more. Apparently he noticed her wincing and released his hold on her, his face falling into his hands. "I'm sorry, Max."

After a moment to collect her thoughts, she spoke, her voice soft, "Don't be. You've endured a lot, and through no fault of your own. You're allowed to be angry and upset about that." Max tells him.

Mike agrees with a silent nod of his head. He gently coaxing her into his arms and apologizes again. While still in the embrace, he continues, "Do you want to know what it is that's keeping me here; keeping me sane? Or do you already know?" They pull back from each other, Max's hands on his chest and shoulder while his larger hands occupy her waist. Their lips are just a fraction away from each other when he stops speaking and Max asks herself, _do I? Do I want to know what it was that brought him back from the brink?_

Then she looks into his eyes and notices the way he's looking at her, and she decides, _yes, I do already know. _And now, there's quite simply nothing more to do but close the gap between their bodies and kiss each other like they haven't before.

Max woke up to something tickling her skin, or more specifically, someone. Soft fingertips trailed over her flat stomach, the path between her breasts and then her delicate collarbone. They rest for a moment, as if deciding which way to go next. A decision is made and they creep slowly upwards to trace the outline of her lips.

A tiny murmur escapes from deep down in her throat and Max opens her eyes to find Mike smiling down at her. A powerful wave of longing hits him and he lowers his head to hers. He slides his tongue along her lips, silently asking them to be opened as if she might actually need some encouragement to accept him again. If that's what he believes, then she wastes no time putting him straight with words, instead, willingly opening her mouth to grant his tongue access. She slips are arms and legs around him, keeping him close as his hands remain bold. Making her tingle everywhere they touch her exposed skin.

Their fates decided, Max reaches out to grab his hips and pull him down, simultaneously driving her own body upwards. He plunged into her deeper than ever and the whole world exploded around them in a flash of white-hot light: As Mike started to tremble with his own release; she could only clutch at him and beg him to kiss her again. She would never again underestimate the power of a single kiss with the right person.

One last particularly sharp thrust and they both went careening over the edge. Max didn't unwrap her legs from his waist for a very long time. Neither did he move from his position on top of her, his face pressed into her sweat-smeared neck, kissing and gnawing at her soft, pale skin as they attempt to regain their voices.

Ever so softly, Max heard him murmur one single phrase, the words she hadn't realised she often missed hearing, "I love you," Mike said quietly, almost a whisper, but loud enough as to ensure she heard it. And then he held her to him, so gently and softly as if she was so fragile that she could break, because she just might.

* * *

A couple months pass after that, but a few weeks before the anniversary of Mike's father's death, they had fallen out over something, which in afterthought now seems trivial and insignificant and yet, it felt like so much more in Max's heart.

She spent the hours of each day when she wasn't in the precinct looking over cold-cases and helping her Uncle with whatever he might need in his relentless search for Joe. She worked day and night in an effort to push Mike from her memory. And yet, she'd be in Ryan's apartment, staring at his shrine to all things Joe Carroll and Lily Gray's picture would be there – pinned to the wall and reminding her of Mike and just what he was doing every moment he spent in her absence. She would be standing there three to four times a week. And she thought about Mike far more often than that.

She received phone calls from him but never picked up. She didn't have the heart to talk to him. It was gone.

The strains of the thunder in dark clouds above the city filled the air of her home on a night that much resembled the stormy night Mike had arrived at her door after a sudden disappearance, and for once, thoughts of him hadn't consumed her mind. Instead, she focused on the case files in front of her.

Suddenly, a loud knock overpowered the soothing sound, and before she knew it, the lock was being turned. No-one else had a key except Ryan, and equally as sudden, he burst through her front door, his cheeks reddened. Mike was behind him and Max stared at both of them in shock.

"This idiot has been bothering me for days, asking why you won't return his calls and wondering if he could borrow this key because you won't let him in. I figured you two could settle your problems - and you do have problems - with me out of harm's reach. I refuse to endure another minute of this misery you both have decided to endure!" Ryan announced, and with a dramatic wave of his hand and a groan, he swept out the door.

Max glared at Mike, and he spread his hands wide in an act of inquiry. "Why are you doing this? Why won't you talk to me?" he asked, his tone almost desperate.

"Why would you care?" She asked furiously, "You didn't care that night you left me to follow a fruitless lead to Venezuela.

"It was the only lead I had in months. I had to at least try." replied Mike.

"Then you left without so much as by your leave." she argued, ignoring him. "You walked out that door without saying goodbye, so you could travel out of the country to find her. Only to run right back to me expecting more sex." She didn't care if Ryan was sitting outside the door, and she didn't care if he was wearing one of his rarely shocked faces. She also didn't care that her neighbours were listening - and she knew they were. The walls were paper-thin. They probably already knew about _that night _too.

Mike rubbed at his eyes in exasperation, "I had to. You know that."

"You. Didn't. Tell. Me." Her teeth gritted with every pronounced word, "How was I supposed to know you hadn't left me for someone else? Did you ever think of how that would make me feel?"

"Max, you had nothing to worry about." Mike began, approaching her slowly, "There is no one else. There never was and there never will be." He ignored the fact that she was staring daggers at him, he'd take them all willingly if that meant she'd forgive him. "How could you even believe otherwise?"

Her blue eyes flared with a similar pain she knew he felt, "How could I not?!" she grimaced.

"Just go." she sighed, before Mike attempted to touch her, forcing herself away from him as she screamed. "Get out!"

* * *

Mike argued no further and left. A week later, when her anger finally cooled off, she realized that longing had taken over in its place. She busied herself even further with a hefty work-load, but for some reason, her thoughts kept bouncing back to Mike. Mike and that night, Mike and the argument they'd only had a week earlier. Of course, she worked and worked until her muscles were sore and her head ached, just to see if she could stop him from invading her thoughts. But he was there, constantly there; watching her work; listening to her tears at night.

Of course, by now Max didn't care about Lily and the lead regarding her which had caused Mike to leave that night. She knew that Mike loved her but she didn't care to forgive him for his carelessness.

She cared that her period hadn't come in the two months since that night. She kept telling herself, it's because she had been upset and stressed out. She'd been getting frequent migraines, and had been to the doctor's twice in the past few months to cure various sicknesses.

She sat in contemplation at the bay window, her fingers tapping lightly against I's pane, her mind occupied with the thought that there could be a baby growing within her. She only had to visit her doctor once again and she would know whether or not she was carrying Mike's child. But she was far too afraid.

A knock sounded at the door, and she knew instantly that it was Mike. He had come to apologize again, and for once, she was debating letting him in. Before, she'd completely ignored his knocks, as well as phone calls. Suddenly, she thought, _what if I really am pregnant? I'm letting an opportunity to give this child a father go. I'm pushing him away, when I really need him._

Eventually, before she could think and stop herself, she stepped towards the door, not even bothering to wipe the tears from her eyes. Mike was standing there, in the doorway, a look of utmost affection on his face.

Max burst into tears, and he shut the door behind him. Then he took her in his arms, and she buried her face into his chest, glad to finally have someone to hold. She sobbed with him for hours it seemed, clutching to him tight, and he didn't move.

He simply rocked her back and forth until she fell into a deep, deep state of slumber that she hadn't found in weeks, perhaps a month.

Max woke up that afternoon to find herself lying on the bed with Mike. It was like a replay from their first morning together, and she threw the covers aside, careful not to wake him.

She shut the door to her en suite and turned on the shower, hoping it wouldn't wake him up. Could it be that his sleep had been troubled in the past few weeks as well?

When she was finished with seeing to her hair, she stood underneath the warm water for a while, letting the steam fill the bathroom. She closed her eyes, willing herself not to fall asleep again. She thought that perhaps when she was done, or when the warm water ran cold, she could go back to Mike and lay in his arms again to sleep some more. Maybe they could sleep well into the night and wake up in the wee hours of the morning to talk together, to sort out everything that had happened… and perhaps then she could tell him her secret - the secret that he had created within her.

She was so preoccupied with her thoughts that she didn't realise the door had opened and someone stepped into the bathroom with her. She didn't even see Mike until he pulled back the shower curtain to expose her naked body… and his.

Staring, she stood there, unsure what to do. Mike took a step forward, and he was under the water with her. The bathroom had been so full of mist and fog that she hadn't been able to see all of him until that moment. He was gazing at her in the sincerest form of atonement, and on his face was an expression he reserved only for her. His arms snaked around her waist and pulled her to his chest.

They stood there, just like that, for a few minutes. Mike began massaging her back, and Max closed her eyes and demanded the hot water to never, ever run out.

Max pulled back to say something. Although what, she didn't know. He stopped her with a finger to her lips. "Shh. No words."

His tone of voice sent shivers down her spine. He looked into her eyes and suddenly, his lips were on hers.

It was a kiss of passion, and Mike deepened it within moments of it's beginning. Max brought her arms up around his waist, and when she did so, he crushed her to his chest, pressing their bodies together. She felt every curve of his chest, the dip of his legs.

Her breasts pressed up against his chest, and he broke the kiss with an anguished groan to look at her. She gazed up at him, hoping her expression wasn't too innocent, because she certainly wasn't. He brought his hands up to kneed her breasts, giving them a hard squeeze, causing her mouth to drop open. Mike takes that as an invitation and coves her mouth with his own, his tongue darting out, if only for a moment to make contact with hers.

Mike then pressed Max up against the shower wall, and she felt his hardness press up between her legs. A slight moan rose up from her throat, and he responded by grinding his hips against hers. She felt him swell and grow between her thighs, teasing her.

This wasn't supposed to happen. They were supposed to resolve things - but not like this.

But Max pushed the notion away when she felt his hands move lower, seeking her core. They stop between her legs, waiting for her to part them for him, welcoming him to the most private part of her body. She closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the tile wall, allowing him to stroke the tender flesh, causing her to shudder. She was just content to stand there and revel in the feeling.

Then he withdrew his hand. Max opened her eyes, disappointed. She finds a small smile on his face as he gazed down at hers. Their eyes locked and held. Suddenly, Max grabbed his face within her hands and pulled his mouth onto hers, kissing him with everything she had.

Slowly, she trailed her fingers over his broad chest and stomach, passing over his abdomen. Their eyes were closed, and their lips locked passionately, but her concentration focused what her fingers were feeling. She slides her hand down between his legs, mimicking his own actions, taking him into her hand, and he pulled back with a surprised groan to look at her. Max offered him a bold smile and simply trailed kisses along his jaw line and neck as her fingers began to stroke him sensually. Every couple of seconds, Mike's concentration broke with another groan, and before long, she felt his hand grab hers to stop her. "Love." he said, but did not give her an explanation. She shook her head with a smirk, knowing full well what it would be.

She kept her hand on him, as he did hers. She felt his hand guiding, and she opened her legs further apart. When she felt him nudge the folds of skin there, she opened her eyes to look into his, guiding him and his hand, and he gently pushes. She had begun breathing hard, and when she felt him slide inside her, a moan broke from her lips.

There were no words. No words at all to describe what either of them were feeling. Yet, when Max looked into his eyes, a thousand words were written there. Mike didn't move for several moments, as if he wanted her to read all of them. She took them into her eyes, and slowly it registered what he was trying to say.

Phrases like _I'm sorry _and _I love you _were immediately scrawled into her mind. When she closed her eyes again, she felt two salty tears make paths down her cheeks, one from each eye. Mike kissed them away.

The tender moment wasn't lost when he began to move. She locked her legs around his waist, and he pushes her up against the wall, a passionate groan echoing against the tiles. At first, his strokes were long and patient, but soon they began to quicken, and he thrust relentlessly into her. Max's muscles spasm uncontrollably, overwhelmed with pleasure, arching her back to press her hips further into Mike's.

His fingers dig into her hips as she buried her face in the crook of his neck when his thrusts began to get stronger. She met thrust for thrust, pushing her hips to his every time. She was barely kept upright by his upper body pressing hers into the wall, and they nearly forgot about the rush of water as it poured over them had it not been for the heating of their bodies.

Max could feel herself beginning to climb that edge, and she knew he would join her there very soon. She whimpered ever so slightly as he drove himself in and out of her, reveling in the friction that their bodies created, amazed that either of them could release such passion.

One last thrust and they were undone, yet both maintaining their position against the wall. They stood there in the shower, the hot water pouring over both of them, until they each regained their strength. Max kept her arms around his neck, gently raking her nails over his scalp, tangling his hair between her fingers. Mike inhaled her scent as he turned his face into her neck, resting his cheek on her collarbone. "I love you", he heard her whisper into his ear. He smiled happily and kissed her on the neck. "As I love you." And then he held her to him completely, so tenderly that she felt near tears, until the water ran cold.

* * *

**The End**

* * *

_So I felt the need to write something more personal and within the realm of normalcy, as opposed to the show's constant psychotic angst. It's always nice to see a bit of the real world In the characters. Also, Max's acceptance of Mike's atonement was certainly conclusive in that lovely shower scene. I hope you folks agree. Thank you for reading._


End file.
